


Into the woods

by Castiels_honeybee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Feral Derek Hale, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Worried Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-05 03:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiels_honeybee/pseuds/Castiels_honeybee
Summary: Derek got himself into trouble, Stiles gets hurt trying to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is trash, I added the prompt i used at the end. Prompt gotten from sterekdrabbles on tumblr. This is the first time i've written in literal years, sorry its bad.

Stiles woke up to a loud banging on his door. Feeling anxiety start coursing through his veins, he scrambled out of bed, grabbing the jar of mountain ash under his bed that he keeps for emergencies. He cautiously walked to his bedroom door, who ever standing on the other side still banging, the panic beginning to take over his breathing. He raps a hand around the door knob and takes a deep breathe when, finally, the other person spoke.

"Stiles, hurry up! open the door!" Scott's voice came through raspy, like he'd been yelling for hours. All the tension fell from Stiles' shoulders and he swung the door open, not waiting for Scott to enter, he walked back to his bed to put the mountain ash back. 

"Scott, what are you doing here? What time even is it?" Stiles sighed, sitting back down on his bed and scrubbing a hand over his face. 

"Where have you been? We've been trying to get ahold of you for hours!" Stiles could almost physically feel the anger in Scotts voice, the anxiety in Stiles sparking back to life. 

"I've been sleeping, man. What did you expect when," Stiles grabbed his phone off his nightstand and checked the time, "When it's almost 4 in the morning, of course I'm gonna be asleep!" Stiles began to scroll through the wall of missed calls and notifications, even Isaac had called him, Isaac literally never calls him. "Man, what happened? Why is everyone freaking out?" He raised his eyes to Scott, who had began passing back and forth in front of Stiles.

"I don't know what happened, but Derek is-" Scott cut himself off and froze, looking toward Stiles. Stiles had rose to his feet, clenching his phone hard enough to feel his cover creak. 

"What happened to Derek? Is he okay? I just talked to him before I went to sleep, he said he was just going for a run and then he'd be going home." 

"Isaac found him, fully shifted, and acting feral. We can't figure out what's happening but it's like he doesn't even remember us. We need you to try to get through to him. There is a better chance he'd remember you." All the anger in his voice had dropped and turned to worry. Stiles, trying to calm his own anxieties, could only nod. Hands shaking as he brings one up to run and slightly tug at his hair, forcing out deep breaths. 

"Yeah," he replies after a minute of just standing there, "Yeah, okay, let me get dressed, I'll meet you in the car." Stiles says, his voice barely audible to humans, but Scott nodded and walked out of Stiles' room. Stiles pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes gently, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. He inhaled deeply and picked up his jeans from off the floor. 

~

Stiles and Scott had gotten about a mile, if that, into the preserve before the Jeep died, Scott offered to drive them but Stiles knew he wouldn't be able to sit still so he insisted on driving. 

"Fuck!" Stiles exclaimed, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. He vaguely registers Scott saying something but before he can actually process it, he is already throwing himself out of the Jeep, heading deeper into the preserve. He hears Scott clambering out of the Jeep and rushing to follow Stiles, which is good because Stiles doesn't even know where he's supposed to be going. 

After a few hours, or maybe it's only been a few minutes? Stiles can't really tell, he isn't paying attention to anything but his own anxiety screaming in his head, 'It's your fault, what if he dies? you let him come out here alone, you left him alone and now he doesn't even remember his pack, you failed Derek, you are the reason he's in trouble, you are the worst mate, he is going to die because of yo-' his thoughts are quickly cut off by a searing pain through his right leg. He screams and drops to his left knee.

"What? What happened?" He hears Scott's voice next to him, Scott puts his hands on Stiles' shoulders. He looked down and Stiles couldn't even see the horror in Scott's eyes because of how dark it is. "Oh god-" Scott cut himself off. 

"Scott," Stiles whines softly, he pulls out his phone and turns on the flashlight, which he now realizes that he should have done a lot sooner. He looks down and, yep, thats a bear trap. 'My leg is caught in a fucking bear trap, isn't that fucking familiar.' "Scott, can you open the trap so I can get out." It wasn't really a question, but it snapped Scott out of his shocked state, he nods jerkily and begins prying the trap open, Stiles' breathing hitches at the pain, he screams a little before he can hold it back. As soon as the trap is open enough, Stiles rips his foot out of it and scrambles back, wincing with every movement. 

Scott rushes to Stiles' side, wrapping an arm around his waist and hoisting him up, helping him balance on his left foot. Stiles whimpers at the fast movement, he can feel the blood dripping down into his shoe. 

"Stiles, you need to go to the hospital." Scott says, trying to keep his voice even but Stiles can hear the anxiety and panic. 

"What, no, I have to find Derek. We need to go get him!" Stiles said, stepping away from Scott in shock and putting slight weight down on his right foot, he let out a pained scream and fell on his back before Scott could catch him. 

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed and ran to help him up, before Scott could even touch Stiles though, they both heard a loud, deep growl come from behind them. They both froze immediately, Stiles slowly turned his head to see two bright, glowing blue eyes staring right back at him. All the anxiety that had been previously screaming its way through his veins, turned to low mumbling as Stiles was overcome by relief. This didn't last very long though because before he would even comprehend what was happening, Derek had lunged at Scott, pinning him away from Stiles. 

"Derek, stop!" Stiles yelled, he could hear Scott growling, he knows Scott would fight back, being Alpha and all, and that's just how he is, "Scott, please, don't fight back! Please, you can challenge him when he's back to normal!" Scotts growls became quieter, but still audible.

"Derek," Stiles started, quietly, not wanting to startle him, Derek was still standing over Scott, teeth bared, ready for a fight. Stiles tried to get to his feet, but that only made him whimper. At the sound, Derek had lifted his head and looked back to Stiles, still remaining his stance though. Stiles ended up reaching for a large stick (more of a branch than a stick at this point) that was nearby, using it as a crutch, he got to his feet finally. He limped over to where Derek was pinning Scott, but as he got closer, Derek lost the stance, turning around and approaching Stiles. 

"Scott, I need you to go call Deaton, make sure he's ready to help Derek, and call the rest of the pack." Scott nodded at him, getting up swiftly and jogging back to where the car was. After Scott left, Stiles lowered his gaze to Derek, who was still a few feet away. Derek growled lowly, head held low, tail tucked between his legs and his ears twitching. Stiles crouched down, using his staff to keep steady when his leg twinged.

“Hey, big guy,” he said softly, and Derek’s growls stuttered a little before resuming. “What do you say we go home?”

Derek anxiously looked around, then he took a step closer to Stiles, still growling.

“Yeah? Wanna go home?”

Derek didn’t reply, just kept looking miserable. With a grunt, Stiles stood up and slowly started to limp towards their house. He smiled when Derek followed. Even feral he knew what home was.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets the help he needs, Stiles gets the Derek he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is written better than the first chapter, and I hope this is a unique take on the "Feral!Derek" trope, I've seen a few people write about it and I didn't want to do anything too similar to anyone else. hopefully it all makes sense. the summary is so cheesy but i couldn't think of anything else.

When Derek, Stiles, Scott and Isaac arrived at the clinic, Deaton was already set up. The tables lining the far wall were covered in jars of plants that Stiles had never even seen. Scott’s arm was around Stiles’ waist, Stiles’ arm, in return, was wrapped around Scott’s shoulders. Every step was excruciating. On the way to the clinic, Isaac has drained some of the pain, but he was still new to that, didn’t really know what moderation was. It ended with Isaac overdoing it and almost passing out on Stiles and Scott drove them all, it wasn’t a pretty sight. 

Luckily, with one look at Stiles, Deaton offered pain killers, which Stiles took happily. Derek, for the most part had calmed down, he’s still not Derek, but he hadn’t tried to attack anyone on the drive over, so Stiles considered that to be progress. Deaton approached Derek cautiously, only getting a few steps in before Derek bared his teeth with a deep growl, Scott set Stiles down on a chair that was in the corner of the room, near the door, and moved to Deaton's side, Isaac soon joining. Derek began backing into the corner near the tables, growls getting louder, snapping his teeth warningly at the three men that stood before him. 

“I truly hate to do this, but I fear we don’t have any other option.” Deaton says as he goes to a cabinet near the large, metal operation table, pulling a muzzle out of the top drawer. Scott and Isaac both visibly wince at the sight but neither protest. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles protested, rising to his feet, using the wall beside him to steady himself.

“Stiles, he doesn’t seem to remember any of us. Scott and Isaac can heal but if he attacks you or me the damage could be incredibly severe. I need to be able to work on him and get him back to normal, I can’t do that if he is like this. I need to restrain him.” Deaton says, his voice calm and steady, just like always. Usually, Stiles would take comfort in it, but right now it’s making him feel sick to his stomach. 

“He’s not a fucking animal,” Stiles gritted out, teeth clenched as the room began to spin. He suddenly realized that he didn’t even bother to bandage up his leg. After Deaton gave him the medicine, he’d completely neglected his injury. He shook his head slightly, quickly stopping because that only made it so much worse. 

“Stiles, I know this isn’t ideal, but we need to help Derek as quickly as possible and this is the fastest, safest way.” 

Stiles only heard about half of what Deaton said, blinking back spots, he met Scott’s eyes before everything went black. He didn’t think he’d lost that much blood, didn’t realize it was serious. He felt himself falling before he could do anything about it, so he just accepted it and waited for the blunt pain of hitting the floor. Instead, he was met with soft, warm fur, vaguely registering the sound of Scott yelling his name and the feeling of a low rumble, which he assumed was Derek, growling again, then he lost consciousness completely. 

When Stiles woke up, the first thing he noticed was a dull ache in his leg, which he happily welcomed over the excruciating pain that had been there before. He opened his eyes to find that his head was in Scott’s lap, his hand running through Stiles’ hair mindlessly, he used to do this when Stiles was younger. When ever Stiles had a panic attack or woke up from a nightmare, Scott was there, helping Stiles count and breathe and playing with his hair just like his mom had done. Scott’s eyes were focused on something across the room, stiles followed his gaze to see Deaton and Isaac standing over the operation table. 

“'Sgoing on?” Stiles murmured, Scott’s gaze snapped down to him. A familiar smile appeared on Scott’s face, immediately relaxing Stiles. 

“You passed out, man. Scared the hell out of me.” Scott propped him up, letting Stiles lean against his chest, “Here,” he said, picking up a water bottle that was sat on the floor next to them, “you need to drink.” 

Stiles took the bottle with a soft ‘thanks’. After drinking a bit, he felt noticeably better. 

“What’s going on? Where’s Derek?” Stiles said, louder to make sure Deaton and Isaac heard him. 

“He’s here.” Deaton said, sounding concentrated. There was an odd tightness to his voice that Stiles hadn’t heard before, “I know you didn’t want us to use the muzzle but it was the only way we could get him to cooperate. We also, unfortunately, had to sedate him.” 

Stiles didn’t respond, what was he supposed to say? He understood, he really did. He still didn’t like the idea of treating Derek like a dog, but right now, he isn’t really Derek. 

“There was a problem,” Deaton began, he finally turned to Stiles, holding up his hands which were concealed in blood covered gloves, “I found something implanted on the back of Derek’s neck, Isaac and I are removing it but that’s proving to be difficult. It looks like a small needle, but I’ll have more answers once we get it out.” Deaton finished and turned back to what we was doing. 

Stiles took a moment to process it, as the words turned over in his head he felt his anxiety getting stronger and stronger, that voice beginning to scream at him again. ‘What if they can’t get it out? What even is it? Could it kill Derek if they can’t get it out? Will he be stuck in full shift? Will he just be a feral wolf forever?’ The spiraling train of thought was cut off for a moment by Scott continuing to thread his fingers through Stiles’ hair, stiles forgot that Scott could hear his heartbeat. He took a deep breath, counting to ten. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Stiles said, trying his hardest to keep his voice even, but in the end he knew it came out shaky and weak. 

“I think so, we almost have it out. Once it’s out, I’ll be able to find out what exactly it is and what it was used for.” Deaton said, voice strained as he tries to concentrate. 

“I have it!” Isaac chirped, pulling his hand up slowly. Deaton meeting him with a small tray, stiles could hear a small ‘clink’ of something being dropped into the tray. 

“Thank you, Isaac, you did a great job.” Deaton says warmly, being met with Isaacs proud smile, “I’ll be back shortly, Isaac will you stitch him up, please? I don’t know if he will heal on his own yet.” 

“Sure thing!” Isaac exclaimed as Deaton walked into the back room. 

-

Isaac has just cut off the thread he’d used to stitch up Derek and Stiles had just finished his bottle of water when Deaton came back into the room, he looked tired, stiles had noted. 

“Did you find out what it was?” Scott chirped, anxiously, from behind Stiles. 

“Yes, it was a piece of a needle. I found traces of an extremely strong breed of wolfsbane, as well as signs of it being enchanted to keep him feral. The type of magic is familiar, I may know who’s behind it but I’ll check around to be sure.” 

Stiles made a move to stand up, losing balance for a second only to be straightened up by Scott, throwing him a quick smile and thanks. Once standing up properly, which Scott’s help, stiles moved towards where Derek laid, unconscious, still full shift. 

“Why isn’t he shifting back? You got the needle out, shouldn’t he be okay now?” Stiles said, he knew it sounded rushed and panicked but he couldn’t really find the energy to care or be embarrassed. 

“He should shift back once we wakes up, the needle was in pretty deep and some of his other wounds didn’t heal like they should have. I’m assuming that once he wakes up and heals, he will be able to shift back with no problem.” 

Stiles nodded, placing his hand softly on Derek’s head, between his ears, and slowly moving his thumb back and forth across Derek’s forehead. Isaac had removed the muzzle as soon as he finished sewing him up. Scott softly pushed Stiles toward the chair he had sat in earlier. 

“You need to sit down and rest, I won't try to make you go home but you at least need to get off your feet, man.” Scott said softly, Stiles only nodded and limped back to the chair with Scott’s help. 

-

Stiles woke up with a jerk when a firm hand softly gripped his shoulder, the room was bright and almost blinding. Stiles pressed his palms to his eyes for a moment. 

“Scott,” he groaned softly, “how long have I been out? How’s Derek doing?” he rubbed his eyes softly, inhaling deeply as he stifled a yawn. 

“Not Scott, but I’m doing a lot better.” Derek said, softly squeezing Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles stiffened immediately and looked up, Derek had dark circles under his eyes that Stiles assumed mimicked him, he was wearing gray sweats, his dark red Henley, and his leather jacket. He looked as perfect as always. After a beat, Stiles jumped up and wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders in a tight hug. 

“Thank god you're okay,” Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, holding him just as tight, nuzzling into Stiles’ neck. Stiles backed away after a few seconds and pushed Derek softly, “What the fuck happened, man?” Stiles spat out, trying to fill his tone with anger but it just sounded panicked and tired. 

“Hunters,” Derek’s brows furrowed at the look Stiles gave him, like the “yeah, ok, no shit” kind of look. “I don’t really know everything that happened, I was running and I thought I heard a beta howl, so I stopped, but by the time I realized it wasn’t a beta…” Derek trailed off, looking anywhere but Stiles’ eyes. 

“Deaton said the needle had traces of magic, though. How’d hunters get their hands on an enchanted needle?” As if on queue, Deaton rounds the corner holding a notebook and a pen. He studied the notebook intensely. 

“I may have an answer for that,” Deaton started, looking between the two men still wrapped in each others arms. A small smile appeared on his face at the sight of them, “The magic is familiar because it belongs to a colleague of mine. She’s a very powerful witch-for-hire, I just got off the phone with her. She said a few hunters contacted her last week and said a werewolf had been killing people in their town, she mentioned that the story seemed stitched together but she assumed that they were just scared. She enchanted a few syringes to suffice as tranquilizers, but that was meant for a normal werewolf, not an evolved one. The wolfsbane kept you in full shift, but the charm seemed to backfire and make you feral.”

“What happened to the hunters? We have to make sure they get what’s coming to them!” Stiles pushed his way out of Derek’s, balancing on his left foot, “They attacked an innocent werewolf, hunted for fun, and lied to get a witch to help them! There has to be some repercussions, if not just straight up fucking them up.” Stiles’ anger rose the more he thought about it, Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ lower back, gentle and comforting. 

“The witch assured me that they will not get away with what they’ve done. Trust me, they will get what they deserve. It will be taken care of and I've already made sure they have left town.” Deaton explained, keeping his voice low and even, “You boys should really be getting home, Stiles’ you need to clean your wound and you both look exhausted. I’ll make sure everything gets taken care of, I can promise you that.”

Stiles feels his shoulders sag slightly, leaning against Derek's chest. He nods softly and looks around the room.  
“Where’s Scott and Isaac?” 

“They had to go pick Melissa up, I told them to just go home and rest and that i'd be sending you two to do the same once you've woken up.” 

Stiles nodded and they all said their thanks and goodbyes. Derek helping Stiles walk to the Jeep and helping Stiles into the passenger's seat, before climbing into the drivers. He hesitated before turning the car on and looked at Stiles.

“I don't,” he started before cutting himself off with a sigh, “I don't remember a lot from when i was feral, I didn't-” he furrowed his brows and cleared his throat, hand shaking slightly and he grabs Stiles’ hand. 

“You didn’t try to hurt me, if that's what you're worried about. Actually the opposite, and i you didn't really try to hurt the others either. You were just scared, you pinned Scott because you thought he hurt me, but you never actually attacked any of us. Even though you weren't yourself, i think you still knew that we were pack, that i was your mate. You probably still felt that bond that we all have with you.” Stiles explained, voice soft as he brings up with other hand to cup Derek's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb gently. All the tension from Derek seemed to drain as he processed stiles words. He leaned over and rested his forehead against Stiles’. 

“Thank god. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if i hurt any of you, especially you, stiles.” Derek's voice was so soft, if they weren't so close, stiles might have even missed it. Stiles just smiled softly.

“You'd never hurt us, feral or not. I know you wouldn't. Now let's go home and sleep for the rest of the week.” Stiles said, voice heavy with exhaustion, knowing Derek felt just as tired. Derek nodded and pulled back, hesitating for a moment before gently kissing Stiles, stiles returned it immediately. Once they pulled away, Derek was met with a bright smile that felt like it physically warmed his heart. He smiled back and turned on the car. Knowing that he was going home with the one person that trusted him no matter what, it was a overwhelming feeling. Derek was just happy that everyone was okay, he made a mental note to apologize for pinning Scott later, but for now he was going to do exactly what his mate requested, go home and sleep for the rest of the week.


End file.
